


Convenience

by youjik33



Category: Suikoden Series (Video Games), Suikoden V
Genre: M/M, PWP
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-24
Updated: 2020-10-24
Packaged: 2021-03-08 20:22:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 994
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27172397
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/youjik33/pseuds/youjik33
Summary: After a job well-done, Mueller looks to unwind.
Relationships: Mueller/Richard
Comments: 1
Kudos: 2
Collections: Shipoween 2020 - The Halloween Ship Exchange!





	Convenience

**Author's Note:**

  * For [chicago_ruth](https://archiveofourown.org/users/chicago_ruth/gifts).



Peace was, as always, bad for business. But it was also temporary. Mueller had been with Lindwurm long enough to know that, and as his men still had to eat, he wasn’t too proud to take some minor jobs here and there, seeing to pirates or mountain bandits or even the occasional livestock-stealing monster, before something more lucrative could come along.

That was how the unit had ended up in a place that could only generously even be called a town, cleaning out a nest of roving brigands so ill-equipped and poorly organized that Mueller might have felt sorry for them if he’d been a different sort of man. He collected their pay, accepted the mayor’s offer of dinner and drinks, and slipped off to his room at the inn as the mayor’s pretty daughter fawned over Wilhelm’s exaggerated tales of heroism.

It had been an easy job, and left Mueller feeling vaguely unsatisfied. Not that he got any particular pleasure from bloodshed. But as he trudged up the inn's creaky stairs and pushed open the heavy door, he was feeling restless, and had an idea of what might be done about that.

Richard, luckily, was already there, sitting on the edge of the narrow bed, working oil into the blade of his sword. He looked up when Mueller entered, expression bright and expectant.

"Did I give you permission to enter my room?" Mueller grumbled.

"Do you want me to leave?" Richard asked. Always so eager to obey.

"No," Mueller said. "Get your boots off."

Richard set the oil aside and carefully sheathed his sword, but as soon as it was safely put away he was wriggling out of his boots, leaving them in a heap beside the bed. "Clothes?" he asked. 

For a moment Mueller was tempted to say no, just to be contrary, but there was no sense delaying things unnecessarily. He nodded curtly, then watched Richard strip, quickly and efficiently and with an obvious air of anticipation. He'd filled out in the year or so since they'd been in a proper war, Mueller noted -- a bit taller, shoulders a bit wider, body still made of wiry, compact muscle. Mueller wondered exactly how many men Richard had killed today. Six, seven? He probably could have taken out the whole bandit clan on his own if he'd had to. Mueller felt something deep in his belly stir at the thought.

"Hands and knees," Mueller said, mostly so he wouldn't have to look at Richard's stupid grin any more. Sometimes Mueller tied him up, either with rope or a belt. Today, looking at the bed's wrought-iron frame, he had another idea. "Grab the frame," he said. "Two hands. Yeah, just like that. Now don't let go until I tell you."

Mueller idly picked the vial of oil from the table, watching the line of Richard's spine, the white curve of his buttocks as he wiggled impatiently. The oil was thick, and warmed quickly between Mueller's fingers before he tipped the bottle and let a trickle fall right at the top of the cleft of Richard's buttocks. He pushed the tip of one index finger after it, internally chuckling at the sharp intake of breath this elicited from Richard. He spread the oil down, touching the soft puckered hole but not pushing inside, not yet.He continued to tease, spreading the oil with the lightest touch he could manage.

"Please," Richard gasped after a moment.

"Oh?" Mueller said. "You want something, do you?"

"Please," Richard said again. Mueller could see the honey-blond hair at the back of his neck darkening with sweat. "Please, inside me."

"What do you want inside you?"

"Anything," Richard gasped.

"Are you sure about that?" Mueller chuckled. "That's a dangerous request." 

"I don't care," he whimpered.

"If you insist," Mueller said. He unbuttoned his fly with one hand, working more of the oil onto his erection. "Don't say I didn't warn you."

Mueller knew he was bigger than average; it was simply a fact. But Richard's body seemed made to take it, and he sank right to the hilt in one smooth stroke. Richard's hands never left the iron bars of the bed frame.

"Good boy," Mueller murmured, running his thumbs over Richard's hipbones. "I suppose now you want me to move."

"Please," Richard panted.

"No" Mueller said. "I'm staying right here. You move." 

Richard's hips rocked obediently, letting Mueller's cock nearly slip out of him before rocking back and pushing it in deep again. Despite how easily it slid in and out, Richard's hole was tight and hot, and Mueller couldn't quite keep his own breath from hitching. Richard would certainly have gone on like that until he had fucked both himself and Mueller to completion, but it wasn't long before Mueller couldn't stand it any more and dug his fingers into Richard's skinny hips, taking over the thrusting in long, deep strokes that made Richard toss his head and writhe beneath him.

When Mueller was finally finished he pulled out slowly and languidly, then stood at the foot of the bed for a moment, stretching his arms over his head and watching the trickle of spunk drip down the inside of Richard's thigh. 

There was a basin of water in the corner, still warm, if not steaming. Mueller crossed to it, dipping a cloth into the basin and wiping himself clean. "You can move now, if you like," he said off-handedly.

When he turned around Richard had flopped onto his back. His cock lay soft against one leg, and Mueller wondered if he'd come just from the fucking. He probably had, the little slut.

"Stay here tonight if you want," Mueller said. "But you're sleeping on the floor."

"Can I have a pillow?" Richard asked, face brightening.

"Oh, why not," Mueller sighed. May as well indulge the boy once in a while. The corners of his mouth twitched into a smile. After all, he could be useful at times.


End file.
